Chapter 2

I'd known Shawn for six years and had been married to him for three years.

For the first time, he felt like a complete stranger to me.

A sudden, sharp pain stabbed through my chest.

For a split second, I was completely at a loss.

Apparently sensing my gaze from behind, Shawn turned around.

Caught off guard, he met my eyes with a fleeting look of shock and panic.

He quickly composed himself, ended the call, and came over to sit on my bed.

He took my hand and asked softly, "How long have you been awake?"

I stared at him blankly, a wave of confusion washing over me.

After a long pause, I lied, "Just woke up. Was someone looking for you?"

Shawn held my hand, visibly relaxing, as though he'd quietly breathed a sigh of relief.

"It was just work, nothing important," he replied.

He added, "I took time off. I'll be here with you tonight and tomorrow."

In the past, I probably would've been touched by this.

But now, my thoughts spiraled into chaos uncontrollably.

Finally, I couldn't hold back anymore and asked, "Honey, did you call the police for me?"

A flicker of unease crossed Shawn's face.

For once, the man who was always so articulate was at a loss for words.

He hesitated to say, "Joss, I just think...

"Anna took some photos. I'm afraid if they were to leak, it could damage your reputation. Maybe we should just settle this privately..."

I'd been bullied by Anna since I was fourteen.

I'd long known that calling the police would be futile.

The White family wielded overwhelming power and influence. What was more, my mom always said she owed Anna and her mother.

Every time I tried to report to the police, the White family would intervene, and my mother would beg me in tears.

In the end, nothing ever came of it.

But this time, I looked at the man before me.

Suddenly, for some reason, a suffocating weight settled in my chest, nearly choking me.

I stared straight at him and said, "So what if the photos leak?

"Shawnie, I've had enough. Do you expect me to endure this for the rest of my life?"

I just couldn't bring myself to ask that question.

Why would he call a doctor for Anna? What was he thinking?

Seriously? He was actually worried that the girl who bullied me for ten years might sulk in the bathroom and refuse to come out?

And what did he mean by sending someone to pick her up, just as she wished?

Shawn tightened his grip on my hand, and his voice softened further. "Joss, how could I ever bear to let you keep suffering like this?

"But your mom just got out of the ICU last week. I'm worried that if something happens again now, it would be too much for her."

Gradually, I came back to my senses.

I remembered how, just over ten days ago, Anna had tried to corner me in the bathroom and bully me again.

I called the police. My mom rushed over in tears, begging me to drop it.

But I refused, and she got so worked up that she had a heart attack that very night.

She was rushed to the emergency room, then transferred to the ICU, and it was days before she was finally discharged.

Yeah, if this happened again, she probably couldn't take it.

But what about me?

Did anyone even care about my feelings?

I looked down at my hand in Shawn's tight grasp and asked, "Is that really the only reason?"

Shawn raised his hand, about to pat my head.

Just as he had done countless times in our three years of marriage, his eyes brimming with tenderness, he said, "Of course.

"Your mother's condition comes first. If Anna dares to bully you again in the future, we'll make sure she pays for it."

But this time, before his hand could touch me, I turned my head away.

"I'm really weary," I said faintly. "I need to sleep for a while."

With playful persistence, Shawn reached out again, determined to ruffle my hair.

But then his phone buzzed with an incoming text.

He withdrew his hand, glanced at his phone screen, then stood up and said, "Get some rest. I'll go get you something to eat. You must be hungry now."

I shut my eyes, pretending I hadn't heard a word he said.

I'd always thought Shawn understood me better than anyone.

But this time, it was as if my feelings were completely invisible to him.

After tucking me in, he got up and left.

The ward wasn't cold, yet my body wouldn't stop trembling.

Some deep instinct was warning me not to go out and check.

But my body moved before I could stop it—I got out of bed and walked out of the ward.